


Whatever the Mess You Are

by badcaseofcasey



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is also ridiculous, Especially Derek, Everyone is emotionally constipated, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-15 03:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badcaseofcasey/pseuds/badcaseofcasey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's inner-wolf needs a mate, and the physical emptiness is literally killing him. Stiles, along with the rest of the pack, is trying to help in any way he can to find Derek a mate, all while trying to deny the way his stomach flutters when Derek gives him that look; because it can't possibly be him. Can it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first (hopefully of many) foray into the world of Sterek! I hope you like reading it as much as I did writing it.
> 
> Title from Challengers by the New Pornographers - "Whatever the mess you are, you're mine, okay?"

Derek knew something was wrong.

He was having trouble accessing his inner wolf. Changing at will wasn’t nearly as easy as it should be, but changing against his will was becoming an unfortunately regular habit, one he hadn’t had to deal with since he was a teenager. Control was kind of his thing. Control was what protected him, and to see himself losing it…

Well, Derek knew something was wrong.

He’d tried running himself through the drills he did when he was first learning control, but there was nothing that helped. He tried to focus on his anger, that had always seemed to work before, but for some reason, the control wasn’t coming.

It was embarrassing really, this loss of control, when he’d been preaching the importance of it to Scott ever since he was first turned. He was supposed to be an example for his pack, a model of how to control yourself and how to behave as a werewolf. Instead, he was an emotional wreck, and they could all tell.

Erica had tried to make him talk about it. Isaac told him that whenever he got confused, he went for a run through the woods. And Boyd, being a man of few words, just gave him concerned looks whenever he was feeling particularly frustrated.

It was part of being a pack, having people care about you, but Derek had gone so long without it that he didn’t quite know how to deal with it now that he had it back again.

If he was honest with himself, he knew that he should let the pack take care of him, that talking about this might actually make himself feel better, but he was meant to have all the answers, and he just… didn’t. And it frustrated him.

If he was really honest with himself, he would admit that he hadn’t been ready to become an alpha. He’d turned three teenagers who were looking for someone to guide them and for a place to belong, and he had promised that he could give them that, but how could he, when he didn’t even have it himself? He hadn’t belonged anywhere since the fire, not really. Who was he kidding that becoming alpha and having a pack would make that any different?

And then there was the whole Scott-refuses-to-join-the-pack thing that was just really wearing on him for some reason. I mean, sure, they’d had a rocky beginning to their relationship, but that doesn’t mean they can never come back from that. They’d worked together pretty successfully in the past against werewolves and hunters and kanimas, so why shouldn’t Scott want to join the pack permanently?

So Derek was conflicted.

There was a lot of crap going on in his life right now, and he seriously didn’t need this lack of control thing right now.

He needed it just about as much as he needed the kid who was currently ranting at him about the merits of the original Star Wars trilogy versus the modern ones.

Derek learned long ago that when Stiles got into one of his rants, the best option was just to sit there and take it, for lack of a better word.

“I mean, seriously, whoever thought Hayden Christensen could act well enough to portray one of the most emotionally conflicted characters in modern sci-fi was on something. The kid is a potato.”

“Stiles.” Derek growled out, resolutely looking out at the woods and not at Stiles. “The point of a stakeout is discretion.”

Derek didn’t look, but he could practically feel Stiles rolling his eyes. “I know the whole strong, silent type is your thing, but it isn’t mine, and I will actually go insane if I have to sit here in silence for hours. And trust me, if you think I’m annoying now, imagine when I’ve lost my brain-to-mouth filter entirely.”

“At least if you were insane, we could get someone to put you in a straight jacket.” Derek said, tired of having to deal with hyperactive teenagers who don’t know when to shut the hell up.

“Derek, that hurts, really.” Stiles said. “Wounds deep. But I’m a little surprised at the lack of description of bodily harm in that threat. Usually they’re much more violent. No pushing me up against walls and showing me who’s boss?”

Derek sighs and feels his nails start to elongate into claws. He took a deep breath and willed them away, somehow succeeding this time where he hadn’t recently. “Let’s just, try and see how long you can stay quiet. I bet you can’t last three minutes.”

“Don’t try and treat me like a five year old.” Stiles said. “And you can make eye contact when you talk to people right? I mean, you seemed to be quite adept at it the several times you’ve threatened me.”

Derek looked over at Stiles for the first time since Anakin lost his arm, and something about how the sun shone through the leaves and onto Stiles’ pale skin made his heart race. “Stiles.” he growled out, frustrated at the lack of control over his heart rate, something he’d mastered over the years. “We have tracked something that has killed 3 people in the past week into this forest, and we are waiting for it to show up so we can at least know what it is. What about this situation makes you think it’s a good time to get to know me better?”

“Fine, Sourwolf, I’ll be quiet.” Stiles said, shaking his head and breaking eye contact with Derek to look out at the clearing. “Just know I'm not enjoying it. My boredom is on your conscience.”

That wouldn't even be close to the worst thing weighing on my conscience, Derek thought, but didn’t say it out loud. He never said things like that out loud. He was the alpha and he was meant to be strong.

Thankfully, Stiles was quiet after that, and Derek was free to listen to their surroundings for any sign of the creature they’d been tracking. All they knew so far was it wasn’t a werewolf, and it wasn’t a kanima, so really, they didn’t know anything.

“But seriously, though.” Stiles said, after not 45 seconds of silence. “How can you not have seen the original Star Wars movies? I mean, those are like a rite of passage.”

This was going to be a long night.

___

Derek didn’t have a problem with Stiles Stilinski. Neither, contrary to popular belief, did he hate him. There was just something about there personalities that didn’t quite mesh.

Derek was quiet, Stiles never shut up. Derek didn’t generally joke around, Stiles sees an opportunity for humor in anything and everything. Stiles never did as he was told and Derek lived by a strict set of rules that kept him and his friends alive.

But there was something about him that didn’t annoy him as much as he maybe let on.

Stiles was smart, and he had great instincts. He was able to reason through a tough situation to find the best or most efficient way of handling it. He was cool under pressure, and he was able to react quickly and meet the challenges that were in front of him.

Derek might not show it, but he respected Stiles, and knew that he probably wouldn’t be here if not for him.

___

Stiles got home from school and threw his bag towards the chair in the corner of his room, getting ready to spend the next few hours researching whatever it is that’s killing people in the forest. They hadn’t seen anything during the stakeout, but there were still parts of the bestiary he hadn’t checked.

He was so wrapped up in the thoughts of where to begin his search that he didn’t even notice his bag never touching the chair. Instead, it landed in the arms of a certain Derek Hale, who’d been waiting for him and now cleared his throat to make his presence known.

“Jesus!” Stiles said, turning around sharply. “Warn a guy before you go sneaking into his bedroom. Though, honestly, I should probably be used to it by now. This is at least the fifth time you’ve snuck into my room. How’d you get in, even? I thought I locked the window.”

“You did.” Derek said, dropping Stiles’ bag and walking over to him. “Are you doing research?”

“Yeah, have you got any new information for me?”

“No, I just thought that I’d check in. See if you’d found anything useful.” Derek said, glancing over at the stack of papers on Stiles’ desk. Stiles stepped to the side to block them from view, because those certainly weren’t pertinent to the monster they were trying to track.

“The stakeout was last night, Derek, I haven’t even had time to research anything. Because normal people, we sleep. And go to school.” And apparently research why you might be acting so weird, Stiles added in his head. He’d figured out a while ago that if he only told part of the truth and said the rest in his head, it was harder for those with supernatural wolfy hearing to tell that he was lying.

“Then I guess I’ll leave you to it.” Derek said, moving towards the window.

“Or,” Stiles started before he really thought it through, “you could hang around – give me some company while I research stuff to help with a problem you supernatural creatures probably created in the first place.”

Derek stopped and looked at Stiles skeptically, but went back to the corner and pulled the chair closer to Stiles’ desk.

Good, Stiles thought. Maybe he’ll be able to tell what’s wrong with him if he spends more time around him.

As Stiles went through the steps that were becoming routine (open Beastiary, search for keywords from descriptions from their observations, repeat until something comes up), he let his mind wander to a topic that he probably shouldn’t think about as much as he does – Derek.

Lately, there’d been something different about the way he acted, especially around Stiles. He was as surly and quiet as ever, but his ability to completely hide away all emotion, except for anger – that, he showed – had almost vanished around Stiles. He seemed to have lost his poker face and tended to actually react to Stiles’ comments. He still wasn’t smiling, but Stiles would swear he saw the corners of his lips quirk upwards a few times. Not quite a smile, but enough to cause Stiles to worry. With anyone else, it would be perfectly normal, but when Derek Hale starts to smile, something’s wrong.

Of course, when he’d done some research and come up empty-handed, and it came time for Derek to go, Stiles was just more confused than he had been at the beginning. He picked up the pile of printouts on werewolf behavior he’d hidden from Derek earlier, and looked through them, hoping for answers he knew wouldn’t be there.

Unfortunately for him, a sudden spike of werewolves in pop culture led to a lot of flawed assumptions and false promises of easy answers to Stiles’ questions about the creatures he now found himself surrounded by on a daily basis.

It wasn’t until Derek got sick that Stiles realized how bad it was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, guys!

They were training when it happened.

There had been a run-in with a couple of campers on the last full moon and Derek was putting his betas through their paces to try and avoid something like that from ever happening again. The runner hadn’t been injured, just scared out of their wits; still, the sooner they learn to control their shift, the better, and the full moon was just days away.

“Erica, watch yourself.” Derek said, gesturing at her hand. “Find your anchor.”

Erica looked up at him, scowling. “I’m trying. It’s not that easy.”

Derek looked at her, exasperated, his eyes flashing red to remind her of her place. “Try _harder_.”

Isaac was running on the treadmill, perfectly in control ever since the first moon. “Hey, are there any leads on that new baddie running around town?”

“Not yet.” Derek said, checking up on Boyd quickly. “But Stiles is on it, so it probably won’t be long before we know something more.”

“You really have that much faith in him?” Isaac asked.

Derek looked down at his hands, wringing them lightly. “Yeah, I do.”

His mind trailed off to thinking about Stiles the previous afternoon, the way he was so focused when he researched, a rare sight when it’s Stiles you’re talking about; the way the sun shone in through the window to light one side of his pale skin…

He barely had time to realize something was wrong before a ringing filled his ears, something shrill and overwhelming. His claws and fangs grew and he fell to his knees, clutching his head, howling in pain. The wolf was in pain. It felt like there was a hole, right through him that the wolf was trying desperately to heal.

The betas huddled around him, abandoning their treadmills, and looking down at their alpha in fear. They could tell something was seriously wrong. This isn’t normal. Derek was hurting, but they couldn’t see what was hurting him, and it killed them. Their primal urge to protect their alpha had them scrambling, but none of them knew what to do.

So, they called someone who might.

___

“Wait, what?” Stiles said into his phone as he climbed into his jeep. “Slow down, Erica, what is it?”

“You have to come to the train car, now. It’s Derek. Something’s wrong; he’s hurt.”

“Okay, okay, I'm on my way. Calm down, he’ll be fine. How often does Derek get hurt, and he’s always fine.” he said, unsure of who he was trying to reassure.

Derek might not like him very much, nor is he exactly the friendliest werewolf, but between bonding over wolfsbane bullets and treading water to escape a kanima, Stiles had come to care for Derek. He’d become a part of Stiles’ life, albeit somewhat forcibly, but now that he was there, Stiles wasn’t going to lose him if he could help it.

When Erica called, she was babbling about training and Derek and not knowing what to do, and Stiles knew something was wrong. Out of instinct, he’d grabbed his translated copy of the bestiary that he’d printed and bound and his keys and took off.

“Erica, let me know what’s wrong. Why is he hurting?”

“Derek collapsed during training.” Isaac’s voice came across the phone, obviously taking over so Boyd could calm Erica down.

“Okay.” Stiles said thoughtfully, thinking through everything he’d read. “Was he training with you?”

“No, just coaching us through it.” Isaac said. “One moment, he was fine – we were talking about how you were researching whatever’s killing people, and then he was on the ground.”

“And he hasn’t been shot today?” Stiles asked, just checking all of his bases.

“Not that I know of.” Isaac said. “Do you have any idea what could be causing this?”

“I’m not sure.” Stiles said, sighing. “But I’m almost there. Don’t let your fellow pups do anything stupid before I get inside.”

“All right, no problem.” Isaac said. “Get here soon.”

From how badly Erica was shaken up, and how insistent Isaac was, Stiles had been expecting something horrible, but Derek actually looked a lot better; he looked significantly better than he had the day with the wolfsbane, but he wasn’t waking up.

Stiles rushed over to where the wolves were huddled around Derek and knelt down next to them.

“What’s wrong with him?” Erica said, looking up at him abruptly.

“Oh, hi, nice to see you, too.” Stiles said irritably. “Have you tried waking him?”

“He’s not responding to anything – cold water, out howls, a dog whistle.”

Stiles reached out to take Derek’s pulse, his heart starting to race at the thought of Derek never waking up. But as soon as his fingers touched thankfully warm skin, Derek jolted awake, eyes wide, heart pounding. Stiles kept his hand on his shoulder, keeping him steady as he sat up.

“Hey, you okay?” Isaac said, worry lacing his tone.

“What happened?” Derek groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and reaching a hand up to rub his temple.

“You collapsed during training.” Erica said.

“We couldn’t wake you, so we called Stiles.” Isaac said.

Derek looked up at Stiles who took his hand away and shrugged.

“Do you know what caused it?” he asked. “’Cause you had your pack pretty freaked out. Scott even texted to see if everything was okay.”

“No.” Derek said gruffly. “It was… a loud noise, like a ringing in my ears, then I just… collapsed.”

And that’s how Stiles ended up driving to Dr Deaton’s with a Jeep-full of werewolves.

___

Derek was getting really tired of relying on Scott’s boss for help – he was a born werewolf, he should know how to take care of these problems on his own. Then again, his family did trust him, or so he says, so for the time being, he trusted him, too.

“Well, you seem fine now, at least physically.” Deaton says after checking every aspect of Derek’s vitals. “But I'm concerned this might be something beyond the physical.”

“Like, something to do with the wolf?” Stiles asked, intrigued and worried at the same time.

Deaton nodded. “It very well may be. Derek, how long as it been since you became the alpha?”

“A little under a year.” Derek said, thinking back to the night of the formal.

“Eleven months.” Stiles clarified, earning him a glare and some questioning looks from the rest. “What? It’s a month away from the formal, and he became alpha on the night of last year’s formal.”

“Then this is a lot more serious than we thought.” Deaton said. “You know, of course, that true wolves mate for life. Werewolves are no different. The wolf cries out for its mate, but it isn’t a real problem until a werewolf becomes an alpha. An alpha is in charge of its pack and therefore, seeks its mate in earnest, and craves a mate in a way it never did before. It seeks a partner to help run its pack. A handful of alphas are physically affected by being without a mate. Not all, but some. If an alpha in that condition goes a year without finding a mate, the wolf will literally die of loneliness, taking the man along with it.”

Everyone glanced at each other, trying to figure out if what Deaton just said meant what they thought it did.

“So I’m going to die unless I find a mate within the next month?” Derek growled out, an utter feeling of hopelessness washing over him.

“You’ll start growing weak,” Deaton said mournfully, “and you’ll lose your connection to the wolf. The resulting weakness of body and mind will kill you. Your body will waste away slowly and you’ll lose all of your power as the alpha. Especially since you were born a werewolf, your body won’t be used to the lack of power. And yes, eventually, you _will_ die.”

The group stood there, shocked. No one knew how to respond – even Stile was speechless.

Derek had always been the strong one, the one who always got hurt, but was very rarely in danger. When Derek was in real trouble, it was a cause for the entire pack to rally behind.

He’d survived so much since they’d all met, even more before they did, and to think that his being alone would be the thing to kill him was impossible to believe.

“Well, I guess online dating is out of the question.” Stile said, but there was no humor in it.

Derek slid off the lab table, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head roughly as he stormed out of the room, leaving them all stunned in his wake. Stiles made to go after him, but Scott put an arm on his shoulder to hold him back.

“Give him some time, man.” Scott said, looking at Stiles sympathetically. He knew that while Stiles always pretended Derek freaked him out or was an asshole, Stiles had come to care for him.

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t have a whole lot of that left.” Stiles said, breaking Scott’s grip and following Derek out the door.

He ran outside and looked around, spotting Derek walking down the road, his shoulders set and brooding.

“Derek, don’t walk away.” Stiles called out. “I know that being alone is your thing, but let us help.”

“Being alone is what’s protected me ever since the fire.” Derek said, still waking away from Stiles, but not doing anything to prevent him from catching up.

“I know.” Stiles said, falling into step next to him. “But that doesn’t seem like an option anymore. You need to let us help you.”

“Do you even know how mating works? I can’t just pick anyone. And I can’t just track them down. Some werewolves go their whole life without finding their mate. It’s one in a million. My parents weren’t mates. There can be love without mating, but someone just can’t become your mate.”

“We have to at least try.” Stiles said, his voice cracking slightly.

“What makes you think you can even help?” Derek said, stopping and turning to look Stiles in the eye, which definitely didn’t make Stiles’ stomach flip, not at all.

“You know I can.” Stiles said, his voice rising to match Derek’s.

“Not with this.”

“What, so I’m good enough to do all your dirty work when it comes to researching whatever's hurting people, but not when it comes to saving your life?”

“This isn’t just research, Stiles!” Derek yelled. “You can’t just look through your bestiary and find me a mate.”

“There are ways.” Stiles said desperately. “There are other werewolves out there, you must know how to contact them.”

“That just shows how little you know – a mate doesn’t have to be a werewolf, so do you see? Do you see how hopeless this is? There are billions of people in this world. One of them is my mate.” Derek growled out. “Mates don’t come along every day – and even if you find them, you might not even realize it. It’s not like love at first sight – it happens slowly. We don’t have enough time.”

“We can at least try!” Stiles repeated, yelling at full volume now.

“Why do you even care?” Derek yelled back. They were just about nose to nose now.

“Because in case you haven’t noticed, Derek.” Stiles spat. “You’re a part of my life now – and even though you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, and you hate me, and you’re constantly threatening me, I care about you, okay? I care about you. And your pack cares, and Scott. So you don’t get to act like you’re alone in this.”

Derek looked at Stiles with something resembling shock, like he couldn’t believe that someone would actually care about him enough to want to help him find his mate. For a moment, Stiles thought that he was going to give in and let them help.

But Derek did what he always does, and turned around and walked away.

___

“Did you catch him?” Scott asked the moment Stiles got inside.

Stiles nodded, but said nothing more.

“And?” Erica asked, obviously eager to know what was wrong with her alpha.

“And he’s being stubborn, but what’s new about that?” Stiles said, passive-aggressiveness oozing out of his tone.

“But is he okay?” Boyd asked.

“He walked into the woods, alone.” Stiles said. “With most people, I’d say that was reason to be concerned, but with Derek, that’s pretty much common practice, so, yeah, I think he’ll be fine.”

“Is he at least going to try and find a mate?” Scott asked.

“Jesus, will you just ask him?” Stiles said, suddenly loud and angry. “What makes me an expert on all things Derek, anyway, huh? Why am I the one who has to be responsible for him? I’m not even a part of his pack!”

Everyone looked at Stiles, so completely shocked by the sudden outburst, and the fact that Stiles was yelling for once. The guy who normally calmed everyone else down was suddenly yelling at everyone, unprovoked.

“Stiles.” Scott said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Stiles said. “Just… let’s all go home and get some rest. We’ll deal with this in the morning, okay?”

Everyone nodded and started gathering their things. Stiles and Scott were the last to leave, but Deaton stopped Stiles with a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s going to be all right.” he said. “We’ll find his mate.”

Stiles nodded, but didn't really believe it. He’d told Derek to be hopeful, but he knew it was a chance in a million. That didn’t mean they couldn’t try. And it didn’t mean they couldn’t hold out hope that Derek could find someone.

“Stiles…” Scot said once they got into the Jeep and started driving. “What was all that about?”

“Look, I don’t know, man.” Stiles said, running his hand down his face and over his short hair. “I’m just… I’m worried about him.”

“It's just, I guess I didn't know you cared so much.” Scott said.

“I didn’t really know I did either.” Stiles said. “But… he’s always taking care of other people, and he never lets any of us take care of him.”

“Well, you talked to him.” Scott said. “And if there’s anyone who can wear Derek Hale down, it’s you. We’ll try and find his mate, even if he doesn’t help us.”

“Yeah, I mean, there’s still a chance, no matter what, right?” Stiles said. “And earlier he said it happens slowly, that he might not even realize it happening at first, so maybe – I mean, it’d be a long shot – but maybe it’s someone he already knows, and we get lucky.”

Scott looked at Stiles, who was looking resolutely at the road, avoiding eye contact. “Have anyone particular in mind?”

“No, I just mean that it would make it so much easier and much more likely to save Derek if it was one of us.”

“All right, whatever.” Scott said. “Did he tell you anything else about the mating process? Anything that could help?”

“Just that it’s extremely rare. And that it’s not something that happens every day. His parents weren’t even mated, and from what Deaton said, this isn’t even something that happens to every alpha.” Stiles said. “And that it happens slowly, then all at once. That it’s not an instantaneous thing. You can know someone for ages and then one day, it just hits you.”

“Well, then yeah, we could still hold out hope that it’s someone we already know. How do you think we could check?”

“Look, I don’t even know, that’s all Derek would say. Hopefully he’ll talk to us tomorrow and we can find out more.”

“Yeah, hopefully he’ll help us out with this stuff. I don’t think that we’ll be able to help if he won’t tell us everything he knows.”

“Yeah.” Stiles said, blinking back his tiredness. “Look, let’s just get home and go to sleep. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. I just need to sleep. It’s been a long day, and I don't’ think my heart rate’s returned to normal since Erica called to tell me Derek collapsed.”

Scott nodded and settled his head against the window, looking out at the dark forest around them.

Today had been a long day, but Stiles had a feeling that they were in for a whole month of long days.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me through the lore explanations! I promise it'll be worth it.

Stiles sighed, putting his head in his hands and massaging his temples. If he had to comb through one more page worth of fan fiction disguised as real information about werewolf mating habits, he was going to kill himself.

He seriously never thought he’d be in this position: researching mating habits of werewolves as a last resort to try and help a dying friend. But this is his life now, apparently, so this is going to become normal now.

“You’re not going to find anything on there.”

Stiles turned and saw Derek standing next to the window. It wasn’t even a surprise now – it was as if he was constantly half-expecting Derek to crawl in through his window at any moment.

“Yeah, I’m starting to gather that.” Stiles said, gesturing at his computer screen like it had personally offended him, which, yeah, it kind of had. “But seeing as my resident authority on all things wolfy walked away when I asked him to help out with my research, this is all I’ve got.”

Derek nodded, acknowledging that what he’d done wasn’t exactly productive, which was basically as close to an apology as the alpha got. “Well, I’m here now. What do you want to know?”

“No, you know what, we have to talk about that.” Stiles said. “Because you can’t just walk out on us when we’re trying to help you. We need you to let us help you, because if you don’t, we’re flying blind here. I don’t know anything about this, and none of your pack does either, because you haven’t told them. So you’re going to have to cooperate, okay? No more of this self-deprecating refusal to save your life.”

Derek sighed and looked at his hands. “Stiles, I know. But this isn’t going to be easy. Everything I said last night still stands.”

“I know that, but I still need to know more if we're even going to have a chance at this.” Stiles said, sincerity coming from every part of him. "Because if we do, I'm not resting until we've exhausted every resource."

"Okay. What do you need to know?" Derek asked.

“Just – everything.” Stiles said, shrugging wildly. “Anything that could possibly help with finding you a mate. How does it work, what do you need to do to know they’re your mate? Does it involve actual, you know, mating? And how the hell can we help, because you really need to let us.”

Derek nodded slowly, thinking.

“Well, mates are rare, as you already know. A bonded pair of werewolves feel each other’s pain, pleasure – every sensation is doubled. They are able to sense each other’s emotions stronger than the others around them, and their heartbeat, their smell, everything is stronger to their senses. But it doesn’t have to be between werewolves. A werewolf-human bonded pair is even more rare than mates in general, but incredibly special. We’re not quite sure how they work, but somehow, the werewolf connects to something inside the human that allows them to sense their pain and pleasure as if they were a werewolf, but obviously, they won’t gain a werewolf’s superior senses, just because they’re bonded.”

“Okay…” Stiles said thoughtfully. “So, how do you think we should go about this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, is there anything about your mate that would make them stand out in a crowd?”

“They’d – there would be a stronger connection. Not so strong that you would notice it if you weren’t paying attention, but enough that it’s noticeable.”

“So, like Scott can hear Allison’s heartbeat distinctly, even in a crowd?” Stiles asked, tapping a pen against his desk.

“Exactly.” Derek replied

“And you said it could be someone you already know? That it would be easier that way?”

“It would be easier, yeah.” Derek said, looking warily at Stiles. “What are you planning?”

“A test. To see if it’s any of us.” Stiles said. “When are you free?”

Derek looked over at Stiles, something resembling shock in his features.

“What?” Stiles said. “I can focus sometimes.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… thank you.” Derek said, something very rare. “For doing so much to help.”

And that did it – Stiles was blushing. One of the many disadvantages of pale skin was that everyone knew when you blushed, especially those with super-senses, which, unfortunately, included most of his friends.

And Derek was the absolute worst. This guy with super-strength, beautiful eyes and abs so lickable they should be illegal, who would just unexpectedly compliment or thank you completely out of left field, had the power to make Stiles blush. Figures.

But Derek didn’t have it much easier. Seeing the blood rise in Stiles’ cheeks made Derek’s pulse race. He’d known for a long time that he was physically attracted to Stiles, but recently, with his newfound inability to control himself, it was becoming a real problem. The increasing heart rate led to him starting to change – when he went to Peter for help, he’d just said that Derek needed to get laid, which, you know, he doesn’t disagree with, but his thoughts about who with might make that difficult, seeing as he was only 17.

“-do it for anybody – hey!” Stiles was saying, his outburst interrupting Derek’s train of thought. “Can you not put holes in my desk?”

Derek looked down to where Stiles was gesturing and saw his claws creating grooves where he was white-knuckling Stiles’ desk.

“Sorry.” he said, taking his hands away and clenching them into fists, putting his claws away.

“No worries, full moon coming up, all the stress from the mating thing… I'm surprised you aren’t just completely wolfed out.”

“No, that’s not it.” Derek said, frustrated. “I normally have much more control.”

“Even more reason to find your mate. Allison keeps Scott from unleashing the beast, won't your mate do that for you as well?”

“In theory.” Derek said. “So, what’s this test you’ve come up with?”

___

Stiles was not in love with Derek Hale.

He wasn’t.

There was absolutely nothing about Derek’s personality that would make him desirable.

He was moody and terse and threatened Stiles with bodily harm far too often. He was still damaged from the death of his family, in a fire that he still believes was entirely his fault. He’s got baggage. His last relationship ended with his girlfriend burning his house down around his family and pack.

And if you asked Stiles, he would tell you he was very much not in love with Derek Hale, for several reasons, including, but not limited to, those listed above.

If you asked Lydia Martin, however, you would get a very different answer.

“Come on, Stiles, you cannot be serious.” Lydia said.

“I can – I am!”

“You don’t make a list of what you don’t like about someone unless you’re trying to convince yourself that you don’t.” Lydia said matter-of-factly. “You’ve spent far too much time thinking about him to deny that you have feelings for him.”

“Yes, I have feelings for him.” Stiles agreed. “I _feel_ like he threatens me a bit too often. I _feel_ sorry for the guy for losing his family. I _feel_ the need to help him, so he doesn’t die and honestly, I feel a little intimidated by him – but I’m not in _love_ with him!”

“Stiles.” Lydia said reprovingly

“Lydia.” Stiles mocked.

“Describe Derek in 10 words or less.”

“No, don’t you dare try any of your Jedi mind tricks on me.”

“All right, fine.” Lydia said, rolling her eyes. “You said what you don’t like about his personality, but what about his body?”

“Oh, come on, you’d have to be blind not to realize that Derek’s hot, and even then, all you’d have to do is get one good feel of his abs, and you’d know.”

“I bet you wish you could get one good feel of his abs.”

“I never said I wasn’t attracted to him, Lydia.” Stiles said. “But I'm not in love with him.”

“All right, all right – accept it in your own time.” Lydia said, throwing up her hands in defeat. “But next time Derek gets hurt, remember how you felt when it was me that was hurt. See if you’re not just as worried, if not more.”

But Derek’s life being in danger now was nothing like when Lydia was.

It felt so much worse.

So yeah, maybe Stiles _is_ in love with Derek Hale after all.

And it kills him that he can’t be what Derek needs.

___

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Danny asked.

“It’s something for bio.” Stiles said, hooking up the heart rate monitor.

“You take chem.”

“Work with me here, Danny boy.” Stiles said, raising his eyebrows. “Would I ever make you do something that could get you in trouble?”

“Probably.”

“Just, when I tell you to, run on the treadmill.” Stiles said, smiling and adjusting the strap around Danny’s torso. “I’ll be right back.”

Derek was waiting outside, back against the wall, eyes closed, listening hard.

“Anyone standing out yet?” Stiles asked, causing Derek to open his eyes and look up at him.

“You, but you’re standing right next to me.” Derek said, smirking slightly.

Stiles was going to ignore the swell of hope in his chest when Derek said that.

“All right, well, you know what to do, right?” Stiles asked. “We’re taking turns running on the treadmill, and if you hear a heartbeat that sounds stronger than the rest speed up, knock twice on the wall and we’ll know out who it is.”

“Stiles –” Derek said just as Stiles turned to go back inside.

“Yeah?” he said, turning back eagerly.

“If I don’t hear anything – if it isn’t one of you, don’t -” Derek cut himself off, not finding the words to say what he meant. “It’s not your fault, I mean. If I don’t find someone- it isn’t your fault.”

Stiles looked at Derek carefully, trying to understand why Derek was telling him this; why Derek was bothering to discuss feelings when he never had before.

Giving up on sorting his way through the enigma that was Derek Hale, Stiles just nodded and said, “I know,” before turning to go back inside.

Derek watched him go and leaned his head back against the wall.

“Fuck.” he muttered under his breath.

He was so screwed. Not because he wasn’t going to find a mate, but because the moment he listened for a heartbeat, there was one that stood out to him. And that heartbeat belonged to a certain boy with pale skin, a buzz cut and a heart too big and loving to be resigned to loving Derek for the rest of his life.

___

“No one standing out to you, huh?” Stiles asked as he slid down the wall to sit next to Derek.

Derek shook his head, not having it in his heart to lie to Stiles’ face.

“I'm sorry.” he said. “I knew it would be too easy if it were one of us.”

“Don't be sorry.” Derek said weakly. He felt physically weak for the first time in a while. “I think I’m just going to go home and get some sleep.”

“My house is closer.” Stiles heard himself saying before he really thought it through. “And you could sleep in a real bed if you came with me.”

Derek was too tired to argue. And a bed _did_ sound nice. “Are you sure your dad won’t mind?”

“Nah.” Stiles said. “After we told him about all of you guys, he somehow thinks I’m safer around you.”

Derek laughed, which was more just blowing more air out of his nose than usual. “He might rethink that as time goes on.”

“He might.” Stiles agreed. “Look, you just realized finding your mate is going to be about 10x harder. Let me make you some comfort food.”

 _Comfort for who_ , he asked himself, but didn’t show his disappointment. Well, hell, Derek could probably tell he was upset, but he didn’t know that it wasn’t because Derek hadn’t found a mate yet – that it was because it wasn’t Stiles that was his mate. He would never admit it, but he’s somehow thought that maybe, just maybe, it could have been him. But it wasn’t, and he needed to move on and help Derek find his mate. Not having Derek romantically was better than not having him at all.

“Hey, Dad, you home?” Stiles called out as he let Derek in ahead of him. “I brought Derek over for some lunch. You want some?”

“Save me a plate.” Sheriff Stilinski replied from the dining room. “I’m doing case work.”

Stiles peeked his head in and saw his dad poring over files strewn across the long table.

“It’s your day off.” Stiles said, looking at the files.

“Not when something’s out there murdering people.” the Sheriff said, looking up at his son. “Do you guys have any more for us to go on? Any discoveries on those late night recon missions?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Derek said from the doorway, slightly awkward; he was still unsure around the Sheriff - they were on the same side now, but he’d still arrested Derek multiple times, one of which was when he was a suspect in his sister's murder. You don’t forget things like that too quickly.

“Well, you let me know if you find anything. We might not be much help if it turns out to be something that goes bump in the night, but I might be able to get you some backup.”

“You’ll be the first person I call.” Derek said, nodding officially.

“You know what, I think I will take a break.” the Sheriff said, looking at Stiles. “You said something about lunch?”

Thankfully, lunch went by without any incident, except for Derek and the Sheriff bonding, which was a little unsettling, to be honest, but also really nice. Stiles was almost certain this was the first time in years that the two had a one-on-one interaction that didn’t involve handcuffs.

And Derek’s surprised smile when his dad shook his hand and clapped him on the back as he went back to work after lunch was devoured and the dishes were washed made it all worth it.

Stiles led Derek up to the room, turned to face him and smiled.

“Told you he likes you.”

Derek tried to hide the smile, but Stiles had gotten very good at reading Derek’s facial expressions – had to, since he very rarely said anything out loud.

“Thanks for that.” Derek said quickly, like he was ripping off a band aid. “I haven’t really had, you know, that kind of thing in a while.”

“You’re thanking me a lot lately.” Stiles said jokingly. “You’re not on your deathbed yet.”

Derek nodded and looked out the window. “Not yet.”

“Derek.” Stiles said, but he didn’t turn. “Derek, look at me.”

Stiles was almost sorry for making him look. He had honestly never seen as much emotion on Derek’s face in the entire time he’d known him, and the sadness that shone in his eyes was enough to make Stiles move his hands to cup Derek’s cheeks.

“I will do everything in my power to save you.” Stiles said, making Derek listen, willing him to believe what he was saying.

“I know you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for reading! There should be a lot more coming soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I UPDATED THE WRONG CHAPTER LAST TIME. THIS IS THE REAL CHAPTER 4.
> 
> Stiles gets himself into trouble in this chapter, too. He really IS good at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the mis-post! I hope you still like this chapter!

Stiles was a little bit depressed. And maybe a little heartbroken.

But it wasn’t taking over his life, or anything. He was just spending a lot of time alone. Researching. Eating ice cream.

But definitely not “moping”. Stiles didn’t mope. He'd dealt with unrequited love for more than half of his life, and he never once moped. There was always hope.

But he was starting to feel a little hopeless when it came to Derek. There was nothing in the bestiary about finding mates or anything that could be remotely helpful. It did, however, discuss what had to happen for the bond to take; luckily, it was nothing too horrific – no animal or human sacrifice or creepy mating rituals – both people, or werewolves, simply had to accept the bond while maintaining contact, which would forge a link between their minds and allow them to be more in tune to each other’s emotions, pain and pleasure.

But that was all once they’d found one another. There was no online werewolf matchmaking service, and apparently it was a rare enough occurrence that no one felt the need to talk about it online. Then again, if Derek was any indicator, werewolves didn’t really _do_ technology.

He’d gotten so desperate that he called Lydia and asked her to come over and help.

Which turned out to be a mistake, because she was only interested in helping him with his moping, not with finding Derek’s mate.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it.” Stiles said, spinning around in his desk chair to look at Lydia, who was sitting on his bed. “All I know is, less than a year ago, you being on my bed would be cause for celebration, but now… Nothing.”

“And that’s because of Derek.” Lydia said – it wasn’t a question.

“Yeah… but being with him would be so wrong. Even if we just agreed to have this month together, it would be worse, because then I’d have so much more to lose.”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all?” Lydia asked.

“Not for the one that’s losing.” Stiles said. “And besides, even if he was interested, how selfish would it be to date him when he’ll die if I do? Mates can’t be forced, and it isn’t me. I can’t, Lydia.”

She nodded sadly. “You’re too good for him.”

Stiles smiled weakly. “And don’t I know it.”

“Why don’t we try to get your mind off of it?” she said, pulling Stiles’ other chair over to the computer. “Derek has another stake out planned for tonight and we don’t have a clue what we’re dealing with. With all the Derek craziness, we’ve kind of been ignoring it as far as research goes.”

“He’s only got two weeks left.” Stiles said, looking more tired and strained than Lydia had ever seen him. “I just – I promised him. I can’t give up until I know he’s going to be okay.”

“Stiles… when was the last time you slept?” When he didn’t answer, she shook her head and continued. “If you don’t take a break, this is going to kill you, too. Two hours of research not focused on Derek, dinner and then at least four hours of sleep before you’re allowed to worry about Derek.”

Stiles sighed and looked conflicted.

“7 hours. You’ll still have 329 left to figure it out.”

“7 hours.” Stiles said, agreeing, albeit reluctantly, and pulling up the bestiary. “Derek said its smell was strong enough to linger on the bodies of its victims. Do you remember anything in here that mentioned a horrible smell?”

___

Stiles went to school the next day feeling a lot more rested than he had in years. He still had a lot of work to do, but they had made significant progress on figuring out what was killing people, and they could focus on Derek completely now.

“Hey, Stiles.” Scott said, coming up to him at his locker. “You look happy. What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Nothing, just… had a good night.” Stiles said, smiling.

“Did you figure out how to help Derek?” he asked, pulling books out and piling them into his backpack.

“No, but we did figure out what’s going on with all the killings recently.”

The bell rang, stopping Stiles from telling Scott what they’d found out, but Stiles was still in a good mood. It was probably because he’d slept for more than 20 minutes at a time for the first time in almost a week. He’d been so busy trying to help Derek that he’d been running himself down. That doesn’t mean he regrets working so hard – he’d do it again if it meant he’d be any closer to saving Derek.

“You look better.” Lydia said as he sat down in calculus. “Glad to see you followed orders.”

“What would you have done if I hadn’t?” Stiles asked, teasing her for her maternal attentions the night before.

“I would’ve made you regret it.” Lydia said. “You know I still have those pictures from when you got really drunk and tried on all the dresses in my closet.”

“You don’t.” Stiles said, suddenly serious.

Lydia smiled sweetly and turned to face the chalkboard.

“I knew becoming friends with you would be something I would regret.” Stiles said, and sat back to get through the next fifty minutes without dying of boredom.

The bell rang to signal the end of the day and Stiles leapt out of his chair, eager to get out of there. He needed to research more so that he could save Derek. It was now his first priority, and he didn’t even have the creature to worry about.

“Bilinski!” Coach Finstock yelled down the hall. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Stiles turned to look at him. “Home.”

“Oh no, you’re not skipping lacrosse practice.” Finstock said. “I need someone to stand in the goal and let Jackson channel his rage into shooting at them.

Stiles groaned, but allowed Finstock to pull him to the locker rooms by his backpack and got dressed in all the padding he could find. Stiles had played target for Jackson once before and he was never doing it without padding ever again.

“Hey there, punching bag.” Jackson said, shoulder checking Stiles on his way to the field. “Ready for another fun-filled practice?”

“Go screw yourself Jackson.” Stiles said, adding another layer of padding. “It’s not my fault you have abandonment issues and use me as a punching bag.”

Jackson turned and pushed Stiles up against the lockers. “Just for that, Stilinski, I’m going to throw twice as hard.”

Stiles groaned, dreading what would come next. His mouth had gotten him in trouble yet again, and he was going to have the bruises to prove it, even through the padding. Jackson becoming a werewolf was convenient in a lot of ways, but it sure sucked a lot of the time, too.

Stiles walked out onto the field, about twice his size due to all the pads he’d layered across every inch of his body. He could see some of the other players sniggering, but he didn’t care. He’d rather not be a walking abuse PSA tomorrow.

He stood in the goal and watched as Jackson stepped forward to take his shot. As the team’s star player and senior co-captain, it was common practice for Jackson to have shooting practice, but today was different. Today, Jackson was pissed, and he needed to take it out on someone in a way that wouldn’t get him suspended. Cue Stiles. Or Greenberg, if he’d pissed Finstock off enough.

As Jackson lined up his first shot, Stiles winced, anticipating the pain of a lacrosse ball flying straight at him. He winced as the first ball hit and felt one after another come careening his way. Even through the padding, Stiles knew he was going to have bruises tomorrow.

Stiles opened his eyes briefly and saw Jackson rearing back, putting more strength behind his throw than he’d ever seen him do, in practice or in games. He closed his eyes and tried to prepare for the pain, but when it came, he knew there was no way he could ever have prepared himself for the pain that followed.

Stiles had broken bones before; being as clumsy as he was, it was inevitable. But he’d never felt pain like this in his entire life. He fell to the ground after feeling the ball connect with his thigh, fisting the grass to try and distract from the pain.

“Stiles?” Scott yelled from across the field, running over from where he was drilling with the rest of the team. “Stiles, are you okay?”

“My leg.” Stiles gritted out through bared teeth. "I think it’s broken. But it hurts more than just that.”

“What did Jackson do?”

“I don’t know.”

The rest of the team had gathered by now, including Finstock, all asking whether Stiles could get up or move, but all he could hear was the ringing in his ears, drowning out everything but the pain. Everything faded into a dull murmur, his mind completely dominated by the pain. He felt nauseous, as if he was about to pass out from the pain, when suddenly a voice came through the dull ringing in his ears.

“Let me through!” A voice, too deep for a high school student, cut through the crowd. “Let me through, I need to see him.”

“Derek?” Stiles heard Scott ask, bewildered.

And suddenly, the pain started to go away. It was still there, but there was something there dulling the pain.

“Stiles, open your eyes.”

Stiles squeezed them closed and shook his head slightly.

“Stiles, look at me.” Derek said, his hand coming up to cradle Stiles’ face.

Stiles opened his eyes with some effort, and saw Derek’s green eyes staring down at him, worry painting his features.

“Don’t be so worried, Sourwolf.” Stiles said quietly, trying for a smile, but not quite managing if the look on Derek’s face was anything to go on.

“Come on, you’re coming with me. You need medical attention.”

Stiles felt himself being picked up and attempted to protest, but he was in too much pain to really do anything about it. Derek lifted him gingerly and held him against his chest. Stiles felt consciousness starting to slip away and the last thing he heard was Derek’s soothing voice.

“Don't worry.” he said, his voice gentler than Stiles had ever heard it. “Don’t worry, I’m here. You’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IT'S THE CHAPTER WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!
> 
> Kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I made you guys wait so long for that last update, and then screwed it up.

Stiles woke up to the sound of a steady beeping and shouting in the corridor. He opened his eyes to try and see who was yelling, but he couldn’t lift his body, he felt so weak.

“Hey, there, don’t try and get up.” A voice came, along with a hand on his shoulder.

“Mrs. McCall?” Stiles asked turning his head towards the voice.

“Hey there, Stiles.” she said. “Why is it you’re always the one getting hurt?”

“Guess I’m just lucky.” Stiles said, his voice slurring slightly.

“Well, don’t try to move just yet. You’re still pretty heavily doped up on pain meds. You had a pretty nasty break. Your femur was almost completely shattered. We had to get you into surgery to try realign the bones and remove the shattered fragments. You were lucky that there was enough bone to put back together.”

Stiles closed his eyes and sighed, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time.

“You know, if I didn’t know better? I’d think you had some sort of super healing power.” Melissa said, starting to leave the room.

“Who’s fighting?” Stiles asked groggily.

“Oh, that.” she said, looking out into the hall. “Derek brought you in and Jackson came a little while later, I think to check on you, and it would seem that Derek’s been yelling at him since he arrived about how he could possibly hurt you.”

Stiles nodded slightly. “Sounds like Derek. Is my dad here?”

“I’m right here, Stiles.” his dad said, moving closer to his bedside. “How’re you feeling, buddy?”

“I’ve had worse.” Stiles said, grinning playfully.

“That’s what worries me.” Sheriff Stilinski said. “Seriously, kid, if I’d have known lacrosse would be so rough, I would have told you to join basketball or something.”

Stiles laughed and smiled at his dad. “And I probably would have been able to get myself hurt in whatever sport I tried.”

“That’s probably true.” the Sheriff said. “Look, I’ve got to be on duty later tonight. I tried to get someone to take over, but…”

“It’s okay, dad, I understand.” Stiles said. “If you took off every time I broke a bone, there’d be a lot more crime in Beacon Hills.”

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Stiles.” he said. “Try not to hurt yourself any more than you already have. At least, not until I get back.”

“I’ll try.” Stiles said, laughing.

“Thank you, Melissa. For taking such good care of him.” Sheriff Stilinski said.

“Oh, it was nothing.” Mrs. McCall said, and if Stiles didn’t know better, he would say that she was blushing.

The Sheriff gave them both one last smile, and left.

Mrs. McCall finished attaching a new IV bag and turned to Stiles.

“Now, you need to get some more rest. I’ve just given you another dose of morphine. Trust me, you’ll want it. We should be able to have you out of here by the end of the day once we get you in a cast.”

Stiles felt himself slipping away again, the voices in the hall somehow comforting, even as they were yelling.

___

The next time Stiles woke up, someone was holding his hand and stroking the back of his hand with their thumb.

“Feels nice.” Stiles mumbled, sleep still slurring his words slightly.

The person in his room hummed lightly and Stiles felt more comfortable and peaceful than he had in a very long time.

“How are you feeling?”

Stiles opened his eyes and looked to his side, where Derek was sitting in one of the hospital chairs, pulled close to his bedside.

“Derek.” Stiles said, a sort of awe that he didn’t know he was feeling coming out in his voice.

“Are you okay?” he said, looking down at Stiles with concern.

“Better than I was.” Stiles said. “How did you know to come get me? Why do you care so much?”

Derek remained silent, simply stroking Stiles hands in a calming sort of way, but Stiles could feel his heartbeat picking up as his brain started to work.

“Derek? How did you know I was hurt?” Stiles said, more urgent than before.

Derek still didn’t respond. Stiles was hardly one to just let something go, so he took his hand out of both of Derek’s and sat up slowly. If he was going to have this conversation, it wouldn’t be while he was lying in a hospital bed.

“Derek.” Stiles said. “Answer me.”

“I could sense that you were in pain.” Derek said quietly, not meeting Stiles’ eyes.

“But… I'm not a part of the pack.” Stiles said. “How…?”

“You and I…” Derek said, trailing off, as if he was having trouble getting out the words, as if it was hard for him to admit…

“Oh my god.” Stiles said, starting to understand. “Oh my god, Derek.”

“Stiles, I would have told you.”

“Would you?” Stiles said. “If I hadn’t figured it out, would you have told me that we’re-“ Stiles lowered his voice, knowing that someone could be listening. “That we’re mates?”

“I didn’t want to force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.” Derek said, looking Stiles in the eye for the first time since he’d brought up how Derek knew to come and find him.

“What if I wanted to, Derek?” Stiles said, anger in his tone. “I meant what I said – I will do anything to save you.”

“Even spend your whole life with me?” Derek said, his eyes fiery. “No, you deserve the choice. You shouldn’t be forced to be with me just to save my life.”

“Just to save your life?” Stiles asked. “Derek, if you think that after all that we’ve been through, I haven’t come to care for you, you’re crazier than I thought. You’re my friend, Derek, if nothing else, and I want you by my side, no matter what it takes. I want you to live, and I will do anything in my power to let you.”

“Stiles, no.” Derek said. “I won’t accept the bond, even if you do.”

“Why not?” Stiles said. “Why are you so convinced that you don’t deserve to be saved?”

“Because I don’t.” Derek said, his voice coarse and worn. “You don’t know me, not really. I was the reason my entire pack died.”

“I thought we were past that already.” Stiles said. “You were young, and you made a mistake, and that is no reason to let yourself die. I would happily accept the bond if it meant saving your life. Have you not realized what it would mean if you died?”

Derek looked down at his lap, his hands wringing together.

“You have three betas that have less than a year of being a werewolf to go on, and you’d leave them without an alpha? Or worse, force one of them to become the alpha? You might not have admitted it to anyone else, but I know how confused you were when you first became alpha. You really want one of them to go through that?”

“Stiles, this is not up for discussion. I will _not_ force you into a life you do not want. They all understood the risks when they became werewolves, and they will understand. You never agreed to any of this.”

“I’m agreeing now!” Stiles said. “I am accepting this, and I promise you I will not regret it.”

“You can’t promise that.” Derek said gravely.

“Derek-“

“You need your rest.” he said, standing up. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Before Stiles could say another word, Derek had already left the hospital room.

But somehow, Stiles had the feeling that they weren’t ever going to talk about it again, if Derek had any say in the matter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is an abduction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick update to say thank you for the almost 200 kudos! I seriously cannot thank you guys enough for reading :)

The next day, Mrs. McCall came in to tell Stiles that he was ready to check out whenever he was ready.

“It’s extraordinary, actually.” she said, moving around Stiles’ room. “I’ve never seen anyone heal this fast. You might just have supernatural healing powers, after all. From the x-rays, the doctor says that you might not even need to stay in the cast, that we could take it off before you leave. No one knows how to explain it, but, there you are.”

Something Derek had said when they were researching mates floated back into Stiles’ thoughts.

“ _When a werewolf bonds with a human, they have certain abilities that allow them to protect their mate, and it can go as far as they lend their mate accelerated healing when they’re in each other’s presence. Even before the bond takes, a human will heal at the rate of a werewolf if their mate is with them, watching over them.”_

 _“But how?” he replied_. _“You said that being a werewolf’s mate doesn’t give them any of the perks of being a werewolf.”_

_“It doesn’t.” Derek said, rolling his eyes. “But a werewolf’s deepest instinct is to protect its mate. It’s just like how Scott can take the pain away from the animals at the clinic, except to an extreme. The werewolf takes not only the pain away, but the injury as well. In a way, their healing is applied to their mates’ injury.”_

_“That’s amazing.” Stiles said. “But, how do you know so much about it, if they’re so rare?”_

_Derek down, away from Stiles’ inquisitive gaze. “Why are you so interested in this anyway? You don’t need to know stuff like this to help find my mate.”_

_Stiles looked at him, realizing something. “When was the last time someone was legitimately interested in you, with no ulterior motive?”_

_Derek sighed, picking up the papers on the desk and shuffling through them. “Let’s just… focus on the task at hand, okay?”_

_Stiles, having learned a while ago that pushing Derek too far generally ended in physical pain, he turned back to their work. “Now, what were you saying about the possibility of a werewolf sensing when their mate is in trouble? Have you ever felt anything close to how that would feel?”_

“Stiles, you okay?” Mrs. McCall asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“It must be a miracle, then.” Stiles said, drily. “Maybe someone up there likes me.”

“Hey, what’s with the long face?” Mrs. McCall said. “I thought you’d be excited to get out so soon.”

“I am, Mrs. McCall, really.” Stiles said, smiling. “Just tired. And ready to leave.”

She took him to see the doctor and, once they’d determined that he was healed enough to not need a cast, removed the cast. Once he’d gotten dressed, his father came by and helped him check out.

“Seriously kid, you’re going to need to stop getting hurt.” he said, signing the forms necessary to release Stiles from the hospital.

“You shouldn’t have given me your clumsiness gene.” Stiles said in rebuttal. He’d refused to be checked out of the hospital without riding in a wheelchair, even if he was almost completely healed. “And besides, how else would you get opportunities to flirt with Mrs. McCall?”

He’d meant it as a joke, but by the way his father’s cheeks reddened, Stiles thought there may be a bit

“Hey, no one’s proven clumsiness is genetic.” the Sheriff said. “But seriously, this is close to the tenth time you’ve been seriously hurt in the past 2 years. You need to take better care of yourself.”

“Dad, I’m fine. I promise. I’m not doing anything dangerous.”

 _What a lie that was_ , Stiles thought as he wheeled himself out of the hospital.

___

Stiles was seriously getting tired of being in the woods.

The amount of time he’d spent in the woods was getting ridiculous. He knew that, being friends with werewolves, time in the woods was one of the things he’d have to start getting used to, but he was almost entirely sure that he’d spent more time in the woods in the last month than in his own bed.

The moment Derek knew that Stiles was well enough to walk and stand on his own, he planned another stake out, this time in the woods. Apparently, he’d smelled the creature’s scent all over the woods outside his house when he took a run the other day.

“How much longer are we going to wait?” Stiles said into the walkie-talkie he’d brought along so that they could keep in contact. “Some of us would like to sleep.”

“Stiles, be quiet. It’s never going to come out if it hears you running your mouth.” Derek said, the usual surliness coming out a bit more. Must be the fact that there’s less than a week left till the full moon, and he was still refusing to let Stiles accept the bond.

“C’mon Derek.” Stiles said. “I don’t think it's coming out at all.”

“Stiles, shut up.” Derek gritted out. “You’re either driving it away or leading it straight to you.”

“If you’re so worried about me getting eaten, then maybe you should just let me go home.”

There was silence over the radio and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Complete radio silence must be maintained at all times.” Stiles said, his voice high and mocking. “I’m tired of this shit. Seriously, no more woods. That’s where you get-“

A loud crack sounded from behind him and he whirled around, searching the fortress and he turned to look, his heart starting to race.

“Stiles, are you okay?” Derek’s voice came over the walkie frantic and desperate.

“Scott, seriously, stop fooling around.” Stiles said in reply. “Stop trying to scare me.”

“Stiles… I’m nowhere near you.” Scott’s voice was hesitant and obscured by static, but Stiles could tell he was worried.

Stiles heard the growling  get louder and his heart started racing.

“Stiles, where are you?” Derek said. “Get out of there now!”

Stiles looked up and saw glowing green eyes staring at him from the other side of the clearing.

“Too late.” he squeaked out.

And that was the last thing he knew before he was lifted into the air by something much larger and stronger than himself. The walkie-talkie fell from his hand and was sitting on the forest floor, Derek’s voice still echoing out into an empty clearing, the only sign left that Stiles had ever been in the clearing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Derek gets ready to save the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! You are all my favorite people in the world, and I'm so glad you've stuck with me on this one. I've pretty much finished writing it, so it should be going up quickly from now on!!!

Derek ran into the clearing where Stiles’ scent became obscured by the absolutely revolting smell of whatever had taken him, and doubled over in pain. Knowing his mate was in danger was physically painful. He should have protected him. He should have kept him safe. He should have been with him.

“Derek!” Scott yelled, his face suddenly close to Derek’s, brown eyes wide with concern.

“It has Stiles.” Derek panted out. “It has Stiles, and he’s hurt.”

“How bad is it?” Scott said, paling. “He’s not –?”

“If he were dead, you wouldn’t be able to get me off the floor.”

Scott paused to help Derek stand. “He’s your mate, isn’t he?” he said, slinging his arm around Derek’s shoulders, supporting him as they walked.

“Yeah.” Derek said, finally admitting it out loud to someone other than Stiles. He shrugged Scott’s arm off and started walking on his own, working through the pain that was still coursing through his body.

“Does he know?” Scott said.

“He guessed. When I came to get him at lacrosse practice, when Jackson hurt him?” Derek said, looking down at the leaf-covered ground. “I went to visit him at the hospital that night, and he realized what my sensing he was in pain must mean.”

“I thought there was something weird about that.” Scott said. “That you were there before we’d had time to tell anyone. So, what, why are you still sick, if you’ve found your mate?”

“The bond hasn’t been solidified.” Derek said. “We aren’t truly mates until we accept the bond, under the full moon. Stiles found the ritual in the bestiary. Mates must accept each other under the light of the full moon, while maintaining physical contact. Not that that really matters, because I won't have him giving his life up for me.”

The pain was almost gone now, which calmed Derek down considerably. If Stiles were truly hurt, the pain would not have disappeared so quickly.

"Giving his life up? Derek, what-?"

Derek started running to the car, cutting Scott off. They were both silent until they got inside the Camaro.

“Can you track him?” Scott asked.

Derek shook his head. “Not until the smell fades, or I can hear his heartbeat. Something about the creature is stopping me from being able to hear his heartbeat.”

Scott sat back against the passengers seat. “So, you aren’t bonded?”

Derek shook his head again, not wanting to explain his reasons again. At the moment, he was just trying to remember why he refused to accept the bond in the first place. Even before the ritual, just having accepted it would have given them a connection that he could use right now.

“Well, why not?” Scott said, confusion radiating off him. “He’ll accept, you know he will, if he hasn’t already.”

“He doesn’t deserve that.” Derek said. “He’s done nothing to deserve having to be tied to me for the rest of his life. He’s only seventeen! He doesn’t even know what love is. He shouldn’t have to deal with having to only be with one person for the rest of his life.”

“I remember you giving me a similar speech when I first started dating Allison.” Scott said. “About not understanding love. But you know, sometimes, age isn’t the only thing. He might not act it sometimes, but Stiles is probably more mature than any of us. He’s been through a lot and it’s helped him truly understand and appreciate what he has left. If he accepted you, it’s because he truly wants to help you.”

“He shouldn’t feel obligated to help me, or to be with me. He deserves to fall in love.”

Scott smiled sadly. “You think he hasn’t already?”

Derek looked over at him, and nodded sadly. “Lydia.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “If you paid any attention at all, you’d know that he hasn’t been in love with Lydia for almost a year now. He wouldn’t tread water for two hours for just anyone.”

Derek looked up shocked, as he pulled into the Hale house’s driveway. “What?”

Of course, Erica, Boyd and Isaac chose that exact moment to come up to the car, asking questions left and right about what was happening. Lydia and Jackson were there too, but were still standing on the porch, giving Derek and Scott room to get out of the car.

“What’s happened? Why are we meeting before Friday?”

“It took Stiles.” Scott said, getting out of the car and walking towards the house. They’d started meeting monthly ever since the pack had extended beyond those who were already living with him, and since Gerard was gone and the Argents were a little less intent on killing them, Derek’s house was the perfect place. All Derek had to do was call the pack to him, and they’d all come to the house, and wait in the living room until he called the meeting to order.

“But why aren’t we going after him?” Isaac said. “Shouldn’t we be tracking him?”

“We can’t just yet.” Derek said. “The creature’s masking his scent, and there’s no way to know if finding the creature means finding Stiles. We kill the beast, and we might lose him forever.”

“Do we even know what this creature is?” Jackson said from his place leaning against the doorframe. “We’re kind of flying blind here.”

“Stiles and I had an idea.” Lydia piped up for the first time since they’d arrived. “The night before he got hurt.”

“What is it, Lydia?”

“I can’t know for sure, but we think it might be a Sigbin.”

“A Sigbin?” Scott asked. “What’s that?”

“It’s a creature from Philippine myth. It comes out at night and drinks the blood of its victims from their shadows. They’re able to become invisible to other creatures, including werewolves, but especially humans, and once a year, it takes a pure heart and fashions it into a necklace.”

Erica gasped and Derek eyes’ grew wide with anger.

“It’s going to take out his heart?” Isaac said, panic clear in his expression.

“If we don’t stop it first.” Lydia said, nodding.

“Why wouldn’t he tell me that you’d found out what it is?” Derek asked, hurt making its way into his town against his will. “That seems like something we might have needed to know before going on a stakeout.”

“I dunno, man.” Scott said. “From what you told me about what happened at the hospital, I doubt he’d have wanted to talk to you. He had a good reason not to, at least.”

“What do you mean, he had a good reason?” Lydia asked. “He seemed fine to me. Derek, what did you do?”

“Stiles figured out that he’s Derek’s mate, but Derek won’t accept it, so Stiles is a little pissed that Derek won’t save his own life.”

There was a moment of shocked silence, then various expressions of disbelief and amazement, with an “I knew it!” coming from Lydia.

“Are you kidding me?” Erica said.

“Stiles is your mate?” Lydia asked, accusatory. “And you let him worry about you? Are you aware how much he was stressing out about this? He wasn’t eating, he was hardly sleeping. How could you?”

“He shouldn’t have to be with me just because he’s worried for me.” Derek said. “You know Stiles would do this for any of us.”

“Yeah, right.” Isaac scoffed. “Stiles cares for all of us, we know that. I mean, he’s practically the pack mom. But if you think for one second he’d agree to be any of our mates for _life_ just to save us, you’re out of your mind.”

Derek sighed and looked down before looking defiantly around at his pack. “We’re not talking about this right now. What’s important is that we find Stiles and bring him home.”

They all agreed, somewhat reluctantly, but they knew that Derek’s acceptance of Stiles as his mate wouldn’t mean a thing if Stiles wasn’t alive to _be_ his mate.

“Lydia, you’re with me. You’ll fill me in on the rest of the details on the way. If the Sigbin is really doing what you say, then Stiles will still be with him.”

Lydia nodded, moving over to Derek as if he was picking teams in gym class.

“Scott, I want you to go get Allison, see if we can get any back up from the Argents – we might need it, and they’ll want to protect Stiles – he’s still human.”

“Got it.” Scott said, breaking into a run out the front door.

“You four, split up and canvas the forest. It may still be in there.”

They all nodded and followed Scott out the door.

“And what are we going to do?” Lydia asked.

Derek pulled on his leather jacket and allowed his eyes to flash red momentarily. “We’re going to go find my mate.”


	8. Chapter 8

“So, where do these things like to hang out?” Derek asked, driving towards the scent he’d picked up on earlier.

“Well, it says they live in jars, and that a family can control them.” Lydia said. “But if it had gone into its jar, it couldn’t have taken Stiles, so it must be somewhere else.”

“Where could it be? Scent tracking can only get us so far.”

“Probably somewhere damp and dark. Its eyes are very sensitive to the sun.”

“Okay, so how do we kill it?” Derek asked. “If it can make itself invisible, how can I tell where it is?”

“Well, maybe we use some sort of powder?” Lydia said. “It being invisible won’t completely stop physics. If we toss a powder into the air, then we should be able to see its movements.”

“Well, I don't have any powder in my back seat." Derek growled out.

“We'll figure it out. The important thing is that we find Stiles.” Lydia said. “You’ve still got the scent right?”

“Yeah,” Derek said, reaching out with his senses, “yeah, I’ve got the scent.”

Then, a sound reached his ears that made him laugh out loud with relief.

“And I can hear his heartbeat.” Derek said, smiling wider than he had in a long while.

“Thank god.” Lydia said, sinking back into the seat. “Keep listening. We need to get there while his heart is still in his body.”

“Don’t remind me.” Derek said between his teeth, pressing the pedal to the floor and speeding along the normally quiet streets of Beacon Hills.

The smell was getting stronger and stronger, so much that Lydia was starting to smell it, too, and Derek’s heart was racing, Stiles’ heartbeat the only thing he could hear.

He screeched into the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse.

Derek looked around them for something, anything they could use to track the Sigbin's movement.

"There!" Lydia said, pointing towards a pile of bags next to the warehouse door. "Cement mix, that's enough of a powder to get an idea of where it is."

Derek slung a bag over his shoulder and stopped, searching for a sign of where Stiles was. He knew he was close. They were so close.

He was close enough that the smell of the Sigbin was almost so strong he couldn’t tell which direction to go; but underneath it all, there was another smell, something sweet, a little spicy, and a lot familiar.

**_Stiles_ **

___

Stiles looked around at the dark warehouse, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“Hello?” he called, trying to figure out where the Sigbin had gone after tying him up with its bony fingers, sinewy skin stretched tight over clawed hands at the end of wings.

“Are you going to do anything, or just keep me waiting?” he yelled, the growl he got in answer letting him know he hadn’t been abandoned. “Great, good idea, Stiles, egg on the thing that’s going to rip your heart out and wear it as a necklace.”

He sat and listened, attempting to work out where the thing was by the sound of its light footsteps.

Stiles looked around as much as he could while being strung up by the wrists, trying to find something to help him see where the Sigbin was. If he couldn’t see it, he wouldn’t even be able to try and protect himself when it came at him.

He saw a few bags of dry cement mix piled up in a corner nearby, which he could use, if he could get to it, but it was way too far away for him to think about reaching for.

A little closer, maybe within reach, there was a cart of gravel, maybe close to use to find the Sigbin, if he could get to it. But without the use of his hands, how would he get to it? And even if it was right next to him, how would he do anything with it without his hands?

Stiles allowed his head to loll backwards, breathing out a quick puff of air. How did he always allow himself to get into these situations? Even Jackson didn’t get himself in this much trouble.

He heard the Sigbin’s footsteps coming closer and he squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that what was coming next wouldn’t be good. It came close enough for him to see it through the moonlight streaming in through the warehouse’s only window. It was big, wings extending at least three feet on either side of its body, sharp teeth only outmatched by sharp claws, snarling at Stiles in a way that almost made it seem excited, anticipating something great.

The fact that it wasn't even trying to hide itself was a little worrying, to say the least.

Stiles closed his eyes as it got close, its smell, as well as the claws scraping his shoulder, letting him know that there was no way that he could escape without severely injuring himself.

"Oh my god, I'm going to die a virgin."

He opened his eyes and looked the thing in the eye for the first time. Its beady green eyes looked at him and seemed to almost mock him, not even bothering with invisibility. It knew that there was no way Stiles could get away now.

“Go on.” Stiles said. “There’s my heart. Take it. It’s not like anyone’s coming to save me.”

As soon as the words came from his lips, he felt the razor sharp claws break the skin on his chest and screamed as the Sigbin slowly worked its claws into his chest, obviously trying to draw it out, cocking its head to the side and making an odd purring noise.

And as stupid as it sounds, the only thing Stiles could think of was whether or not Derek would be able to tell that he was dying, whether he would feel the pain of claws tearing through his flesh. It was too bad that he was going to die alone, too. Derek had rejected him, and that's that. There's no way that he'd be coming to get him now.

Just outside the door, Derek felt a sharp stab of pain wrack his chest, but didn't let it stop him from following the scream.

“Stiles!” he yelled, bursting into a run as he neared the one warehouse building that they hadn’t checked yet.

Lydia followed at a slightly slower pace, the need to protect his mate causing adrenaline to surge through Derek’s body, allowing him to run faster than he ever had.

Upon opening the door, he saw Stiles strung up in the corner, the Sigbin hanging onto him with its claws sunk into his flesh. Derek immediately felt his fangs growing, his eyes flashing red, a ferocious growl spilling from his lips.

The Sigbin turned and let out a horrible sound, somewhere between a growl and a hiss, like nails grating on a chalkboard, and released its hold on Stiles before disappearing, allowing Derek to breathe a sigh of relief and he let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Stiles watched as Derek fought with the Sigbin, throwing it down and scratching and biting at it, tearing skin wherever it was exposed.

He tore his eyes away from the violence in front of him when he felt someone reaching up to undo his bonds.

“Lydia?” Stiles said. “How did you guys find me?”

“Derek.” she said, plainly, as if that explained everything.

Stiles resisted the urge to ask every question running through his head, the relief flooding through his veins making it difficult to form full sentences.

“And by the way, why didn’t you tell me you guys are mates?” she asked, giving him a look that always made him feel like he was three steps behind.

He heard a loud whine, a wolfish howl of pain, coming from the other side of the warehouse, and he turned his head so fast the world blurred.

“Derek.” the whisper fell from his lips before he was aware of what was going on. He broke free of Lydia’s grasp and started to run to Derek’s side, not caring whether or not he got hurt in the process. Derek was in trouble; he was hurt. There was a sudden rush of adrenaline that shot Stiles across the room and to Derek’s side.

By the time he got over there, he realized the Sigbin was dead on its back, throat ripped out rather savagely. Derek was on his back next to the Sigbin’s body, obviously in pain, a deep gash across his chest soaking his shirt in blood. He wasn’t healing, not like Stiles was used to seeing by now.

“Derek.” he said, leaning over Derek. “Derek, come on, you have to be okay. You still have a week left; you’re not dying like this, not because of me.”

Derek’s eyes fluttered open and Stiles cradled Derek’s face in his hands. “Stiles, you’re okay,” he mumbled, the words barely getting out.

“Don’t try and talk. You’re hurt.” Stiles said, pressing a hand to Derek’s chest above the cut. “Just stay still.” Stiles turned to look at Lydia, who’d come over to watch over Stiles’ shoulder. “Why isn’t he healing?”

“Maybe it’s something in the Sigbin’s claws?” she said. “Like with the kanima, but something that stops the werewolf’s healing power from kicking in.”

“Stiles.” Derek said, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Don’t, don’t talk.” Stiles said. “We’re going to get you to Deaton, you’re going to be okay. I’m not going to let you die. I promised, remember? You have to stick around. You have to stick around to be a stubborn bastard for one more day, okay? At least one more day.”

“I had to save you.” Derek said, smiling weakly. “You’re my mate.”

And with that, Derek closed his eyes and sank back into Stiles’ arms.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I hope that this chapter makes up for it :) We're almost done, the end is nigh! So I hope you've enjoyed the ride.

“Is he all right?” Lydia asked from the front seat as she drove his jeep to Deaton’s so he could be in the back seat with Derek’s head cradled in his lap. He said it was to make sure he wasn’t dead yet, but he and Lydia both knew that it was more for Stiles’ benefit than Derek’s.

“He’s still unconscious, but he’s got a strong pulse.” Stiles said, not moving his hand from its position, determined to know exactly when Derek’s pulse started slowing, if it did.

“We’re almost there.” she said, turning a corner dangerously.

“Hear that, Derek?” Stiles said, leaning over Derek, combing his fingers through Derek's hair. “We’re almost there. Just hold on until we get you patched up, and you’ll be totally fine. I promise.”

“You’re not feeling any pain?” Lydia said. “That means he can’t be too hurt.”

“I’m feeling a bit, but it’s like my body is pumping enough adrenaline to push through it, because it knows I have to take care of Derek.”

Derek made a sound and tilted his head in Stiles’ hand.

“Derek?” he said, leaning close. Derek’s pulse started to slow, and his started to race. “Derek, no, we’re almost there, you are not dying yet.”

Stiles sat up to look out the window; they were close, but not close enough.

“Derek, come on.” he said, looking down at Derek again, cupping his face in one hand, the other desperately feeling for Derek's pulse. “You’ve got to be stubborn for me one more time, okay?”

Stiles kept his hand on Derek’s pulse, and he couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in his eyes.

“You can’t leave, not when I finally get to have you.” he whispered, quiet enough that Lydia couldn’t hear.

And then, as he felt Derek’s pulse get dangerously slow, he leaned in and kissed Derek through the tears he hadn't even noticed were forming. Derek didn’t respond at all, obviously, but even just the knowledge that Stiles was finally kissing Derek after all this time was enough to make a bittersweet swell of emotion rise in Stiles’ chest.

And suddenly, as if Stiles’ life had just turned into a freaking fairy tale, Derek gasped and sat up.

But, of course, because this is Stiles’ life, and nowhere close to actually being a fairy tale, Derek’s sitting up suddenly caused him to head butt Stiles rather violently, causing Stiles to cry out in pain and hit his head on the top of the jeep.

“Stiles?” Derek said, suddenly very alert. “Stiles, I'm so sorry.”

“No, no, it’s cool.” Stiles said, rubbing his forehead where Derek had hit him. “Maybe slightly concussed, but no big deal, not like one of us has several gaping wounds in their chest.”

“It’s fine, I can feel them healing.” Derek said, brushing it off. “Wait, are you crying?”

Stiles rolled his eyes and smiled. Derek was back. “It’s been a long day, man.”

___

Even though Derek swore up and down he was feeling just fine, Stiles forced him to sit there peacefully while Deaton checked every inch of him for any possible problems. Derek, stubborn as ever, refused to get checked until Stiles was patched up, but Stiles’ injuries had been relatively minor compared to Derek’s, which, as Deaton said, really should have killed him.

“Okay, that’s it.” Deaton said, taking his latex gloves off with a snap. “The cuts are going to heal a bit slower than you’re probably used to, but they’re clean and will heal up no problem.”

“See? I told you I was fine.” Derek said, his stubbornness coming back now that he was feeling better.

“And I told you, I wanted to make sure.” Stiles said, hovering next to Derek as he hopped off of the lab table, still concerned that ~~his mate? boyfriend?~~ Derek was hurt, even if Deaton said he was okay.

Derek pulled his bloodied shirt over his head and started to leave.

“It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea if you stayed with someone tonight.” Deaton said. “I know you have your pack, but somewhere someone can be there to take care of you if you need it. You still shouldn’t move around too much, while that’s healing. It certainly won’t help the process.”

“You can come home with me.” Stiles immediately volunteered. It’d make him feel better to know Derek was okay. He probably would have insisted even if Deaton hadn’t suggested it.

Derek nodded, knowing not to fight either of them on this. Somewhere in the middle of all the craziness he’d finally come to terms with the fact that if anyone was more stubborn than he was, it was Stiles, and sometimes, it was just easier not to fight him on things.

They went to the car in silence, Stiles staying right at Derek’s side the whole time, and Derek would have complained, really, he would have, but there was something about Stiles being close that seemed to calm him down, that made him almost happy, something he hadn’t truly had since Laura died, so he was going to take this opportunity to enjoy it, thank you very much.

Once they got in the car, Stiles kept one hand off the steering wheel, sort of halfway hoping that Derek would at least put his hand next to his, but he didn’t, much to Stiles’ dismay.

“Thank you.” Stiles said, breaking the silence. Shouldn’t it stop being awkward now that they were mates? Hadn’t Derek come to terms with the fact that yeah, this was happening? Or had he only said that because he thought he was dying? It was just Stiles luck that he would fall for possibly the most stubbornly self-sacrificing person on the planet.

“What for?” Derek said, looking away from the road and over at Stiles. For a second, it was hard for Stiles to remember why he should watch the road when he could be staring at Derek in the moonlight instead, but he remembered and faced the road.

“For coming after me, for saving my life for what is probably the hundredth time, at least.” Stiles said, staring stubbornly at the road and trying to will the blush away.

“Well, of course I came after you.” Derek said, looking confused for a second. “You were in trouble.”

“Yeah, but I sort of half expected you wouldn’t. At least, not personally.” Stiles said. “I’m not your responsibility or anything.” He was backpedaling now, trying to get Derek to come out and say it, say that he’d done it because ~~he loved him~~ they were mates.

“Why would you think that?” Derek asked, the confusion still echoing through every word.

“I guess I just assumed that since you didn’t want to accept me as your mate, or whatever, that you wouldn’t come yourself. Like, maybe Scott or the terrible triplets.”

“Stiles.” Derek said, sighing and sounding a lot less confused now.

“I totally get it, you know.” Stiles said. “I mean, I’m probably the most annoying person I know, and you could obviously do better, I mean, look at you.”

“Stiles.” Derek said, trying to get Stiles to stop babbling and listen.

“I know I kind of took it a little far when I kissed you, and I’m sorry about that, but –“

“Stiles!” Derek yelled, and waited to make sure Stiles wasn’t talking before he started. “Go back a bit. What was the part about you kissing me?”

“I’m so sorry, I kind of just like, took advantage of you, but like, you weren’t waking up.” Stiles said. “I didn’t know what to do, so I just… went for it. It was really stupid, I know.”

“Pull over.” Derek said.

"What? Why? I promise I never meant to take advantage, it just sort of happened." Stiles said. "Please don't hate me."

"Just pull over, Stiles." They were on a relatively calm and empty stretch of road between Deaton’s and the Stilinski house, and Derek just really needed Stiles to stop the car okay, so he could just-

And suddenly, Derek was across the arm rest and all over Stiles, hands cupping his face, and lips very much attached to Stiles’ own.

For a second, Stiles didn't quite know how to process what exactly was happening to him, but then realized that Derek was **_kissing_** him, and there was no way in _hell_ he was passing up this opportunity.

He breathed in deep and responded to Derek’s nearly desperate assault, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck, pulling him closer, then moving his hands to pull at Derek’s waist, wanting to feel Derek on him as much as possible.

Derek groaned, the sound coming out as more of a growl, the noise spurring Stiles on as Derek deepened the kiss, acting like he was drowning and Stiles was his only source of oxygen, his lips never leaving Stiles’ completely. The desire to be close to him was more than he could bear.

Far too soon, Derek pulled back, knowing that he needed to explain himself, but Stiles just pulled him in again, kissing him like his life depended on it.

“Stiles.” Derek said against his lips. “We should probably talk about this.”

“Screw talking.” Stiles growled out, and damn, Derek didn’t think that would be hot, but… _damn_. “I’ve waited long enough for this.”

So Derek let himself be kissed, and responded enthusiastically. Talking could wait.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Just a short chapter that'll explain some of the questions you guys have. 
> 
> The next update will be the final chapter, followed by an epilogue later on, and will be a little longer! So I'm really happy you've stuck with me this long!
> 
> Enjoy!

About thirty minutes and two attempts to make themselves look like they hadn’t just been making out in Stiles’ jeep later, Derek and Stiles walked into the Stilinski house to find the Sheriff waiting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee sitting next to him as he read through a case file. He made it look like he was working, but Stiles knew he had been waiting up.

“I thought you spending the night at Scott’s house for the second night in a row sounded fishy.” he said, giving Stiles’ and Derek’s cuts a significant look.

“Sorry about that, Dad, it was sort of… out of my control.”

“It’s okay.” Sheriff Stilinski said. “As long as you are.” He paused, looking them both up and down, because yeah, okay, maybe he cared about Derek, too, a little bit. “You are okay, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine, just a couple scrapes.” Stiles said, smiling. “Derek’s staying the night, though. His wounds are a little worse.”

“But he heals faster, doesn't he?” the Sheriff asked, a bit puzzled.

“I do, but this was from another supernatural creature, so it’s going to take longer to heal.” Derek said, looking the Sheriff directly in the eye, speaking up, standing up straight, just like his mother told him to do when he was younger. He wanted to make a good impression, so sue him.

“All right, well, you two just… rest, okay?” Sheriff Stilinski said, looking a bit uncomfortable. “You don’t want to, uh, get hurt any more than you are already.”

 _Oh my god_ , Stiles thought, his eyes widening when he realized what his dad was implying. “No, Dad, just… no.”

“What?” the Sheriff said. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Do you and I need to… you know, talk?”

“Oh my god.” Stiles said, grabbing Derek’s hand and pulling him away. “Have a good night, Dad.”

Once they got into Stiles’ bedroom, Stiles let go of Derek’s hand, turning to face him.

“Okay.” Stiles said. “So, what exactly is this?”

“Where do you want me to start?”

“How about we start with whether or not you’ve finally accepted me as your mate?” Stiles said. “Now that I’ve had you, even just this little bit, I don’t think I could stand losing you. Not when it’s preventable.”

Derek smiled weakly. “I’ve accepted you. Hell, I accepted it a long time ago, I just… I didn’t want to force myself on you.”

“You think this isn’t what I want?” Stiles said, exasperated. “Still? Derek, I’ve practically been in love with you since that night at the jail, where you stopped Isaac from attacking me. You’re amazing, and underneath all the stubbornness and resentment, you’re kind and loving and you’ll do anything to make sure the ones you love are safe. So, for the last time, you are in no way forcing yourself on me. If I didn't want this, I wouldn’t be doing it. Trust me.”

“I do.” Derek said. “I do trust you.”

He took a hesitant step towards Stiles as if he were still a bit unsure about whether or not he would be accepted.

“You’re my mate, and…” Derek said, trailing off, moving a hand to cup the back of Stiles’ neck. “I love you.”

Stiles let out a half sigh, half sob of relief, happiness flooding through his veins like he hadn’t known since he learned that Derek was dying. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

“Oh, I have some idea.” Derek said, and smiled, pulling Stiles in for a gentle kiss.

But Stiles wasn’t exactly in the mood for gentle. He surged forward, driven by happiness and relief and the knowledge that Derek was going to be okay. Now that he had the opportunity, he was sure he never wanted to stop touching Derek’s warm skin, stretched tight over strong muscles, scarred in places, markers of all they’d been through. They’d been stabbed, shot with Wolfsbane bullets, attacked by kanimas and Sigbins and god knows what else the future would hold, but whatever it was, they would get through it together, and that was the most important thing.

“Stiles.” Derek mumbled against his lips when he felt Stiles go for the hem of his shirt. “Your dad is right downstairs.”

“Trust me, he’s not coming up here any time soon.” Stiles laughed out, whispering as if he didn’t want to break the delicate mood they’d created. “And we’ve got a very comfortable bed and a few hours at our disposal. Why waste it?”

“Stiles, hold on.” Derek said, pulling back slightly so he could look Stiles in the eye. “You’re hurt. You’ve had a long day. I don’t want this-“ Derek paused, looking like he was trying to decide whether to be confused or embarrassed. “Look, as silly as it sounds, I don’t want our first time to be like this, all right? And I’m not trying to assume that you were wanting this to go in that direction –“

“I was.” Stiles said, nodding to show he wasn’t offended, and kissing Derek again, pulling him tight against his body, showing a rare moment of dominance. He kissed Derek like his life depended on it, desperate and fierce, loving and intense. There was nothing he wanted more than to have Derek to himself, just for one night.

Derek pulled back again, laughing lovingly at Stiles’ eagerness. “I promise you’ll have time to do anything and everything you want to do to me. And believe me, I have plenty I’d like to do to you as well.” He paused to nip at Stiles’ shoulder, pulling his t shirt and hoodie back to reach the pale skin underneath. “You’re not going to lose me.”

This time it was Stiles that pulled back, searching Derek’s features. “You don’t get to leave me here alone.” he said, determined. “That’s happened too many times for my liking and I can’t lose you. So promise me, here and now, that come tomorrow night, you’ll be out there with me, underneath the full moon and binding yourself to me as my mate.”

“I promise.” Derek said, emotion spilling out through every syllable.

“Then that’s good enough for me.” Stiles said, smiling.

He pulled Derek close again and kissed him slowly, lovingly. And even though they’d shared too many kisses to count already, this one somehow felt like the first. At first, they were smiling too much for it to be good, the happiness that comes with finally finding the person you want to spend your whole life with running through their veins and echoing in each other’s reactions.

Derek pulled back, smiling widely. “Don’t you want to get down on one knee or something?”

“Shut up, Sourwolf.” Stiles said, kissing Derek again and knowing that no matter what came next, they could take it, because they would be together.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally the cheesiest thing on the planet. 
> 
> Try not to drown in all the fluff.
> 
> Also, the Jane Austen quote that Stiles is referring to is "Love is, above all else, the giving of oneself."

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Stiles asked Derek as he watched Him with amusement written all over his face.

Stiles was psyching himself up, it would seem, just like he would before a lacrosse game, hopping from foot to foot, breathing in and out deeply.

“What do you mean?” Derek said, resting a gentle hand on Stiles’ shoulder, stilling him without a word.

“Well, just… I feel such a bond to you already. I feel it when you’re hurt and I can just sense when you’re around, and we aren’t even bonded yet. What happens when we are?”

Derek pulled Stiles close and kissed his forehead before resting his chin on Stiles’ neck. “From what I know, it’ll probably be as scary as it is beautiful. It’s the complete giving of oneself.”

“Jane Austen?” Stiles teased, pulling back, only to be drawn back in.

“Shut up.” Derek said. “You’re ruining the moment.”

“What moment?” Stiles said, laughing and leaning back to look at Derek. “Look at you, such a romantic.”

“You bring out the worst in me, it’s true.” Derek said, smiling, which was something Stiles was going to have to get used to.

“Seriously though.” Stiles said, all joking gone. “This is kind of a huge commitment. For me, at least, you’re attractive. I don’t want you doing this and hating me in a couple of years when you aren’t grateful that you didn’t die anymore.”

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to hate you.” Derek said sincerely.

“You did a pretty good job of it for the first few years.” Stiles said.

“Well, I hated a lot of things back then, so.”

Stiles looked at him, more serious than Derek thought he’d ever seen him. “If we weren’t mates, and you weren’t in danger of dying, would you still want to be with me?”

“Stiles.” Derek said, emotion thick in his voice. If he knew Stiles was this worried about becoming mates, he might have talked to him about it before. “Stiles, there is probably nothing in this entire world that would keep me from you. You are the most dedicated, loyal person I have ever met, and the fact that you’re keeping me from dying is just a bonus.”

Stiles smiled at him, happier than he’d been in a while, and more relaxed. Derek had completely healed in the time he’d spent at the Stilinski house resting and recuperating, and had made a great impression on his dad, apparently, since the Sheriff pulled him aside while Derek was showering and told him that he was glad Stiles had found someone who cared for him at least as much as he cared for them, if not more.

Stiles looked up at the sky through the trees. It was spring and the leaves blended together and blocked out the horizon on all sides of them, but the moon shone bright above them where they stood in the clearing.

Derek took both of Stiles’ hands in his, distracting Stiles from the moon.

“I thought I was the one who was supposed to get distracted by the moon.” Derek said jokingly, smiling at Stiles in a way that Stiles was more than happy to have to get used to.

“We both know that, out of the two of us, I’ll always be the one that’s getting distracted.”

“I don’t know. You did a pretty good job of distracting me last night.” Derek said, pulling Stiles close. He’d been more affectionate in the past 24 hours than Stiles thought he capable of being, and Stiles thought it was absolutely adorable. Though Stiles would never say that to Derek’s face… or well, maybe he would.

Being Derek’s mate doesn’t mean Stiles is going to stop annoying hm. Only now, every time Stiles did something that used to end in Derek huffing out a sigh or slamming Stiles’ head into the steering wheel, instead, it ended in Derek looking at Stiles like… like he really mattered, like he made a difference, like he was something _amazing_.

“You make it sound so dirty – all I did was distract you from your pain. Using a handheld Galaga game.”

“We did a _little_ more than play Galaga.” Derek said, smirking. “When you put it like that, it sounds so nerdy.”

“Well, that’s me.” Stiles said jokingly. “Last chance to back out.”

“Like you’d let me if I tried.” Derek said, scoffing. “And before you go worrying again, I wouldn’t want to. I want **this** , I want you and I’m not giving you up.”

Stiles smiled, looking Derek in the way that made Derek feel like they were looking into each other’s hearts.

“That’s good.” Stiles said. “Because you’re kind of stuck with me now.” He took Derek’s right hand in his own, the position required for a bonding ceremony. “Almost midnight.”

“Ready?” Derek asked, squeezing Stiles hand lightly.

“Let’s do this thing.” Stiles said as he watched the last few seconds tick away.

Derek took a deep breath, composing himself before reciting the words they’d read in one of the books they found in the Hale library.

“Stiles, I take you as my mate. Where you go, I will follow. I will keep you from harm and keep you in my heart always. Your pain is my pain, and your happiness is my own. We shall walk through life at each other’s side, through joy and sadness, good times and bad. This I swear to you, my mate, my own.” Derek squeezed his hand in reassurance, keeping his eyes locked on Stiles’.

“Derek, I take you as my mate.” he said through a smile. “Where you go, I will follow. I will keep you from harm and keep you in my heart always. Your pain is my pain, and your happiness is my own. We shall walk through life at each other’s side, through joy and sadness, good times and bad. This I swear to you, my mate, my own.”

Stiles’ last words barely had time to echo through the clearing before Stiles felt energy running through him, connecting him to Derek in a way that he’d never felt before. Derek surged forward, consumed by the energy thrumming through their veins, and kissed him, pulling Stiles towards him. Stiles moved to meet the kiss, his lips soft, warm and yielding, but still so strong, so stubbornly in control that Stiles had to smile. Derek, in all his surly, strong, stubborn glory, was his. They belonged to each other, and nothing could pull them apart.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, here we go!

“Derek, come on, let me see.” stiles whined, his eyes hidden by a thick woolen scarf, unable to see a thing through the knit.

“No, I told you. This is a surprise.” Derek said, his voice annoyed, but the smile was evident in his tone. He was doing that a lot more lately.

“Seriously, what are you doing?” Stiles said. “I’m worried about letting you run wild in the kitchen.”

“Are you saying you don’t like my cooking?” Derek called up the stairs.

“I’m saying I'm not sure if I trust you after that one time with the steak.”

“Oh, come on, that was my first time cooking for anyone but myself and I wanted to impress you.”

“Just promise me that whatever you make won’t still be bleeding when it gets to the table and black on the outside?”

“I promise it’ll be better than that time with the steak.”

Stiles was perched right where Derek had left him on their bed in the room at the top of the stairs. Stiles had graduated high school and moved in with Derek over the summer to help him fix up and remodel slightly the Hale house before he went up to Cal Tech for school.

He’d been gone for half of the semester, coming back every once in a while for the weekend and visiting Scott, who was going to school close by, and was very often feeling lonely without Allison, who was at Berkeley. Derek had stayed behind, defending his territory, as it were, and Stiles couldn’t have gone much further away from ~~Derek~~ home than he is at Cal Tech.

“You know when I came back for break, I didn’t think the first thing you’d do would be blindfold me.” Stiles called. “At least, not with my clothes still on.”

“Stiles!” he heard Scott’s disgusted voice coming up the stairs.

“Scott’s here?” Stiles groaned, realizing he’d just revealed one of his kinks to his best friend since diapers.

“Just be glad your dad isn’t here yet.” Scott replied.

“Derek, what are you up to?” Stiles asked, suddenly slightly worried.

“I only have you for five days.” Derek called back. “Scott has had Allison all week.”

“Well, I'm sorry my school schedule sucks?” Stiles said. “That doesn’t explain why you’ve blindfolded me.”

“You’ll see.” Derek said, voice suddenly close, having come up the stairs with his silent wolfy powers. “Be patient.”

“And what do I get if I'm patient?” Stiles said, low and seductive so only Derek could here.

Derek leaned close and kissed him. Stiles responded as much as he could without being able to see.

“You’ll see.” Derek said, teasingly close and much too far away all at once.

“I haven’t seen you in a month, and that’s only the second time you’ve kissed me.” Stiles said, fake pouting, but actually really upset. “Any other guy would be getting insecure.”

Derek kissed him again, this time deeper and with more feeling. “I’m sorry; I’ve been kind of busy working on your surprise.”

Stiles kept his arms around Derek, not wanting to let him go just yet. He pulled him closer, intent on a kiss, but had to wait for Derek to initiate it as he still _couldn’t see_.

Derek kissed him once more, long, slow and languid, the pulled away as if not by his own choice, breathing harder than usual.

“I have to go back down.” Derek said softly. “I left Scott in charge of the kitchen.”

Stiles’ eyes widened. “Go. Go, before we have to remodel this place all over again.”

Derek laughed as he pulled away to leave, Stiles letting his hand trail down Derek’s body as he turned to go so he could feel the muscles working beneath his fingers.

Derek let out a shaky breath. “You keep that up, and I won’t be able to save your surprise from Scott.”

“Then maybe you should get back in the kitchen.” Stiles said teasingly. “Wow, I never thought I’d be saying that to you.”

Derek’s deep chuckle came from the doorframe before Stiles heard his footsteps running down the front stairs.

“Scott, so help me, if you burn down this house – or worse, my food – I will tell Allison any and every horribly embarrassing story I can think of. Including that one Halloween.”

“Keep your pants on, it's almost done,” a familiar voice called up the stairs. The sheriff must have arrived while Derek distracted Stiles with is attractiveness, even through a blindfold. “And I think I can handle keeping Scott from setting your boyfriend’s house on fire.”

Stiles smiled and shook his head, imagining how exactly it would look to have his mate, his best friend and his father all crowding around the kitchen. For some reason it was less concerning than it was endearing.

He’d gone soft.

Stiles sniffed the air, the smells coming from the kitchen decidedly not burnt and actually kind of amazing. Whatever Derek was cooking, he had put some serious time and effort into. Stiles’ boyfriend was _awesome_.

The response he felt from Derek, even though a floor of the Hale house separated them, was one of the benefits that had come from the bond. Strong emotions and intense pain could even carry all the way between Beacon Hills and Pasadena. When Stiles had broken his wrist while goofing off playing, of all things, foursquare, Derek had driven up in half the time it should have taken and taken care of Stiles, feeding him soup, even though Stiles was perfectly able to do so himself.

One thing that hadn’t changed after the bond is that Derek is still the only person Stiles knows who’s as stubborn as he is.

“Stiles.” Derek said, suddenly close, again, having snuck up the stairs again while Stiles was deep in thought. “You ready to take the blindfold off and go downstairs?”

“Yeah.” Stile said, smiling slightly and craning his neck forward so Derek could untie the blindfold.

Stiles was now looking right into Derek’s soft green eyes and his s mile widened.

“When I said I was excited to see you, I meant that literally.” Stiles said, raising his eyebrows at the blindfold that Derek still held.

Derek laughed quietly. “It’s good to see you, too.”

Stiles stood to match Derek’s height, leaned forward and kissed him like he’d wanted to do since he’d gotten back to Beacon Hills, wrapping his arms around Derek and pulling him close, feeling Derek’s muscles flexing underneath his hands, loving every second of it.

Derek pulled back enough to talk, obviously regretting having to let Stiles go.

“Your surprise is getting cold.” he whispered, but not making any move towards the door.

“It’ll last five minutes.” Stiles said, kissing him again, not actually caring if the food got cold. “And besides, we can heat it up.”

“Scott might eat it all.” Derek said, trying to convince himself as much a Stiles.

“If he does, I’ll tell Allison everything I can think of to make him regret it.” Stiles said, keeping Derek held close. “I want to be with you for a little while longer.

“If we don’t go down soon, either Scott or the Sheriff is going to come looking, and then they’re going to complain that we’re keeping them from eating.” Derek said, smiling at Stiles’ eagerness.

“I’m only here for five days.” Stiles whined. “Come on, they can wait a it longer.”

“I promise we’ll get to it.” Derek said, moving his hands to Stiles’ and starting to guide him out of the bedroom and down the stairs. “Right now, you’re going to go downstairs and see your surprise.”

Stiles groaned, but smiled, knowing that Derek was excited to give him his surprise. “Fine, but if I'm too tired to have sex later, it’s on you.”

“Well, if that happens, then we’ll spend the entire day in bed tomorrow. Does that make up for it? Will you come see the surprise I’ve slaved over all day, just for you?”

Stiles smiled, reaching the bottom step and turning to Derek, who blocked his view of what was beyond. “Depends on what my surprise is.”

Derek smiled like a little kid on Christmas morning, excited to see Stiles’ reaction to whatever he’d been working on that requires both his father and Scott. “Happy Thanksgiving, Stiles.”

Derek moved so Stiles could see the rarely used dining room and Stiles didn’t know something so great could make his eyes well up like that.

“You told me you hadn’t had a Thanksgiving dinner in years.” Derek said. “Your dad gave me some of your mom’s old recipes and everyone pitched in to help.”

Scott, Allison, Mrs. McCall, his dad, Jackson, Lydia, Boyd, Erica and Isaac… his family and pack were all there, smiling proudly, knowing by his reaction that Stiles loved it.

“You made me Thanksgiving dinner?” Stiles asked, turning to look at Derek with tears in his eyes.

Derek blushed slightly and nodded, seemingly embarrassed by his own display of affection.

Stiles kissed him deeply, but quickly, not wanting to cause Scott to start yelling about PDA, and pulled away, smiling. “Thank you.” he whispered. “Thank you so much.”

As they sat down to eat, Derek looked around and saw something he hadn’t for a very long time. There was his pack, his mate, the Sheriff and a nurse, all seated around the same table, gathering together to eat and laugh and love. Derek glanced over at Stiles, saw the happiness he’d caused and couldn’t help smiling himself. He looked around the table, and he saw family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! This is the end! I hope you all enjoyed and that you have as lovely a Thanksgiving as the wolf pack!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who stuck around to read, and for anyone who's left kudos or a comment or bookmarked - I literally would not have finished this if it hadn't been for you and you're amazing support :)


End file.
